THE 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 12, 1878.. 



For Forest and Stream and Bod and Gun. 



HUNTING THE ANTELOPE (Antelope 

 Americana). 



WBERB sweeps the illimitable plain. 

 Far over prairie pastures green, 

 And fart by rooky rklge ami cliff, 



With dark ravine ami chasm between, 

 Where short and sweet the jaicy grass 

 Carpets ihe mountain's louely pas?, 

 Ths antelopes, in browsing herds, 



O'er all those grassy uplands rove, 

 To taste the rill or crop the leaf, 



In the sweet freedom of the grove. 



So sby that mao, a'mo3t In vain, 



May seek to ambush their retreat, 

 So swift that matchless steed may fail 



To o'ertake their speeding footsteps lleet ; 

 Vet stratagem and Indian wile 

 The timorous herds to death beguile. 



The savage, hidden in some busn, 



Whose leafy clumps the prairies dot, 

 Shakes its green foliage, and attractB 



The prey within his arrow's shot ; 

 And oft the lawless Shoshonee, 



Or Mandan warrior, stark and grim, 

 Circle the herds on dashing steed, 



Fleet as the birds the air that skim, 

 And charging with a reckless speed, 



With brandish'd spear and twanging bow, 

 And whooping their demoniac yell, 



They lay the panting victims low. 



The dan wolves of the wilderness, 



Gaunt, gray and grizzly, famishing, 

 With lopping stride or crouching gait, 



Surround them with their narrowing ring; 

 Then, with a rush, the quarry gain, 

 Tearing with fang the bleeding vein, 

 Till soon there searce remains a bone, 

 Amid the trodden grasses thrown. 



Isaac McLellan, 



For Forest and Stream and Rod and Gun. 



\o., 





BT T. S. VAN DTEB. 



LT is not my purpose at this time to go into any dissertation 

 on deer hunting; for to do it half justice would require 

 a volume. But there is one more kind of it here to which I 

 must introduce the reader even at the risk of being considered 

 tedious by some who take little interest in hunting with the 

 rifle. 



It is later in the season than the lime of our last hunt, and 

 the acorns are pattering on the dry, hard ground. Between 

 rugged mountains robed in sombre green, runs a long, low 

 vale from 200 to 500 yards wide, with numerous small 

 tranches which break away into the adjacent mountains. Its 

 bottom is covered with vast live oaks that were monarchs 

 when Charlemagne was a baby. Their immense trunks, their 

 long arms, resplendent with ever shining green, their broad 

 massive heads and their hoary beards of trailing moss form a 

 striking picture of dignity, grace and strength. In places 

 they cover the ground witn an almost continuous shade, and 

 with the smooth open ground beneath suggest an old English 

 park. Along the sides where the valley breaks into mountain 

 are low hills and knolls dotted with white oaks that were 

 pioneers before Columbus set sail ; and the acorns of these the 

 deer particularly love. 



At this time of year the deer concentrate from the neigh- 

 boring hills upon such ground as this. During midday 

 they lie in the brushy heads of the side gulches or in the 

 heavy chapparal upon the mountain's breast, where it is quite 

 useless to try to still hunt. But about 4 o'clock in the after- 

 noon they move down to these valleys to feed and lounge 

 until after sunrise in the morning. Is this a hunt or only an 

 evening Btroll in a park 1 We could scarcely tell did we not 

 know that we are miles away from man or any of his works, 

 but for the numerous deer tracks along the cattle trails, and 

 but for a strange mystenous track occasionally seen in the 

 Bandy bed of the slumbering stream like a huge misshapen 

 human foot wilh uncommonly long and narrow toe nails. 

 We loaf slowly along in the cool shade and almost forget 



what we came for, when we are reminded by a sudden bump- 

 bump— and the crash and smash of two gray Streaks 100 

 yards ahead, into the chapparal, 



" Like theTalnbow's lovely form 

 Evanishing amid the storm,'' 

 not of bullets, but of well-deserved maledictions on that stupid 

 law of California that forbids the killing of does. When will 

 the American people ever learn that the sporlsman and the 

 settler ought not to shoulder the whole burden of restrictions 

 for game preservation ? Why should not the pot-hunter and 

 the epicure bear his share too, and the sale of game in market 

 be limited to only a part of the open season ? But no : the 

 palate's royal prerogative must be held sacred, ard thousands 

 of law-abiding sporlsmen and settlers must have their sport 

 abridged to a minimum in order that the plutocracy of San 

 Francisco may revel in venison that they are too stupid or 

 too lazy to hunt for themselves. 



We saunter along a cattle trail for a few hundred yards 

 when we suddenly discover walkiug across an open place two 

 hundred yards ahead two more deer, a fawn and something 

 that looks like a young buck ; rather queer company for this 

 time of year. The first thing to do is to do nothing, but keep 

 cool and see what's best to be done, for tbey will not leave 

 the valiey at this time of day. In a moment they disappear 

 behind some rolling ground. We must now reach that high 

 knoll to the left of where they disappeared. This will give 

 us a good out-look, and besides it is always best, where it can 

 just as well be avoided, not to follow directly upon a deer's 

 fresh track ; as they are more apt to be watching in that di- 

 rection than in any other, and if much bunted or if started 

 by anything will be almost sure to watch their back track. 



Climbing cautiously up the knoil we take off our hats and 

 peer over the crest. This care is not always necessary, but 

 they will quickly see a broad hat, and it is always safest to 

 act upon the presumption that your game is the wildest and 

 sharpest of its kind. A deer is soiuelimes careless, but never 

 presume upon that fact in hunting. Some two hundred yards 

 away in a side gulch filled with scrub oak along the sides, we 

 see them eating the scrub oak acorns, raising their heads and 

 taking a long sharp look all around while masticaiing one. 



Put down that rifle. They are too far for a sure shot. It 

 must be a dead centre shot, or you'll be apt to lose him in that 

 brush, even with a dog. We must get to that ridge behind 

 them. 



Swinging around, so that neither our wind nor noise can 

 reach them, we gain the back side of the ridge and ascend it 

 slowly and quietly as possible. When near the top a dead 

 stick snaps under an incautious step of your foot, which is at 

 once followed by a butnp-bumpsmash-bump from the other 

 side. 



Run for the top, quick ! We may get a shot yet. We 

 reach it just in time to see two white buttocks, each sur- 

 mounted and flanked by glistening gray, waning swiftly in 

 the chapparal on the top of the next ridge. The waning pro- 

 cess is considerably accelerated by a vain connonade of snap- 

 shots, almost always useless at any considerable distance. 



But not yet are we outgeneraled, f jr clcss to our left winds 

 around the head of the gulch, bliea horse-shoe, a well-beaten 

 cattle trail. Swiftly our moccasins skim along the dusty path, 

 and we gain the next ridge just in time to see our game ca- 

 reering up the head of the next gulch, with the everlasting 

 bump-bump-bump of their stiff, steely legs. At the crack of 

 the rifles the powerful legs of the largest one wilt and down 

 he comss, stumbling with a crash into the brush. 



Going up to the place where he fell, we find nothing. There 

 is no blood, and the ground is too hard, too stony, too mossy 

 and the brush too thick to follow tracks not made on the 

 jump. An old story this i3, and a terribly provoking one. 



Three long whistles on an empty shell bring Reche from a 

 neighboring valley with Diego, a Scotch terrier. Diego snuffles 

 a moment around in the brush, and, with a sharp yelp, bounds 

 away up the hill. Very soon there is a mixture of yelps, 

 barks and crashing brush one hundred yards or so above and 

 beyond us. In a moment the noise shifts and the bushes 

 break in a rapid line downward into another gulch. Down- 

 ward goes the racket, no longer with the regular bump-bump- 

 bump, but a confused clattering discord of crashing brush, 

 yelping dog and stumbling hoofs. 



Plunging and thrashing our way through as fast as possible, 

 we come in sight just as they reach the bottom of the gulch, 

 where the nimble Diego bounds ahead and grabs the deer by 

 one of his long, mulish ears. In a twinkling he is shaken off 

 and narrowly escapes a thrust so vigorous that one tine of the 

 sharp horns is broken off by striking the Etouy side of the 

 gulch. Again the dog grabs him, but, like lightning, is 

 thrown to the ground by a stroke of one fore foot. With one 

 hind leg broken high up and entrails hanging out from where 

 the ball just scraped bis paunch in its onward course, the 

 buck stands at bay with hair erect and eyes of a savagely 

 bright, greenish glare, and makes a thrust that would finish 

 a much larger dog. The plucky little terrier dodges and 

 grabs again, now dangling in the air from one ear as the buck 

 fries to' shake him off, now letting go with a yelp as the sharp 

 hoof hits him, until a shot from Keche pacifies the savage 

 buck. 



After a sound sleep under a royal live oak and a starlight, 

 breakfast we again tread the same valley of the night beure 



Gliding swiftly along in the gray of morning, we reach a point 

 a few hundred yards beyood where we were last night. All 

 over the oaks stand like an immense orchard. Here and there 

 long vistas appear, down which we take a long and can ful 

 look, and sometimes we have to stoop down for a long range 

 of sisht below the hanging branches. On we go until the ris- 

 ing sun, breaking through a gorge in the mountains, glistens 

 on the bright green leaves and lights up with golden torch the 

 dead white grass and leaves beneath. Below a distant aged 

 oak the slaniiug beams gleam on the polished tines of a pair of 

 branching antlers and the sleek gray coat of a round, plump 

 body behind them. 



There must be no fooling now with this chap, and no long 

 or uncertain shots ; so keep down that long-range sight. He 

 must be dropped within twenty yards of where lie stands and 

 not sent hobbling into the brush, for a dog cannot always be 

 depended upon in this chapparal. tie is now two hundred and 

 fifty yards off at least, and you must get one hundred yards 

 closer, anyhow. You'll have to approach him in his sight, too, 

 a task one of the hardest in tho world, but also one of the 

 easiest if you do it right. Leave your hat here and get down 

 as close to the ground as you can. Keep a close watch on the 

 deer, and the moment he raises his head to look, lie still. 

 Move only when he is feeding, and keep that tree between 

 you as much as possible. In the meantime I'll back out of 

 here and swing around to the side toward which he'll be likely 

 to run if be should start. 



Fifty yards you pass at a slow and painful pace, when you 

 find that an open slope must be crossed that is directly in 

 plain sight of the deer. Now your chances of getting closer 

 are less than your chances of guessing your distance, and you 

 resolve to shoot. A wise resolve, generally, but you forget 

 just now that you want to make a centre shot and not cripple 

 that noble fellow. You'd better try fifty yards more. 



In the meantime 1 have gained a position on a knoll some 

 200 ysrds to one side of him and between him and the moun- 

 tain" toward which his head is turned, and I am watching 

 him quietly, when suddenly the buck springs in the air as 

 your rifle speaks out far and wide, and starts at a heavy, but 

 rapid gait, on a slanting course toward me. On he comes, 

 not with the high elastic bound, but with the lumbering gal- 

 lop of an old cow, with head down and horns projecting for- 

 ward. I raise the rifle ahead of him and coolly await his 

 coming, when, with a plunge and a lurch, he falls, gives a 

 kick or two, and all is over. A good shot as ever was, and 

 square through the heart. A good 150 yards he ran, much 

 further than usual, though deer have run nearly half a mile 

 when so shot. 



Such, dear reader, is a sample of deer bunting as it usually 

 is in this county, though not quite as it has so far been this 

 year. For some reason, which no one seems to understand, 

 the deer have been scarcer than usual in their ordinary haunts, 

 though it is certain that they have not been killed off nor left 

 the country. Keche and I have quit." good success in spite of 

 il, but it is only by hard work, patient toil, and by extra good 

 fortune in making the most of every chance. All other game 

 is more abundantthan usual, and quite as easily found as at 

 any time. To the sportsman who would seek a refuge from 

 the winters of Jhe North and would shun the enervating heat 

 or iralaria of other sections, who would follow his favorite 

 sport during the greatest number of days in the year and 

 with the least amount of toil, I can confidently recommend 

 San Diego County. For such reasons I have sought it, and 

 though 1 rind it, like all of California, far below the asinine 

 hyperbole (to use the mildest term) of Kordhoff, I am still 

 fully satisfied with its fitness for my purpose. For reasons 

 before given, no market hunters need apply at present. Id 

 fact no one should come here, or indeed to any part of Cali- 

 fornia at present, with any expectation of making a living • 

 with either head or hands, either directly or indirectly, out of 

 the country. It may, perhaps, be done, but the chances are 

 five to one against one, especially when out of health. 



I must add another word or two of caution, which, absurd 

 as they may stem, experience has taught me are sometimes 

 needful : 



1st. That there is supposed to be but one perfectly warm 

 and dry climate in the whole universe, and in judging any 

 terrestrial climate you must consider not what is desirable, but 

 what is attainable. 



3d. That climate is never a medicine, but only a condition 

 under which one not too far gone may recover. 



3d. That California is not to blame for your hard fate in 

 being thrown out of business and banished from friends and 

 home. 



4th. That the felicities of heaven are not to be enjoyed 

 without the formality of dying, and California is not a heaven 

 anyhow, Nordhoff to the contrary, notwithstanding. 



To the average tyro in hunting I find it necessary to say : 



1st. That though the hunting here is by far the easiest; I 

 have ever seen, it is nevertheless hunting, and not merely dis- 

 charging a gun and picking up game. 



2d. That the word " plenty " does not have the same mean- 

 ing when appl.ed to every kind of game, aud it nowhere 

 means so thick that you cannot by dilligent and judicious 

 search find in the course of a day a bare spot to eat your lunch 

 on. 



3d. That game here has the same trick of gettirg out of the 

 way tf a bunglei a? it bus elsewhere, and that this annoyance 

 can be avoided only by learning to hit it aud not by abusing 

 California. 



